Raphael's Haiku
by Firebird Scratches
Summary: Master Splinter realizes he has been neglecting his boys' education in the arts. One of his students proves reluctant, however. Raphael is convinced he has nothing to offer - but sensei has an idea, not only to reach his pupil, but hopefully, to connect with his son. Winner! 1st Place for Best Chibi and 2nd place for Best Splinter, 2015 Stealthy Stories TMNT Fanfiction Competition!
1. Chapter 1

"Excellent work," Splinter said, returning their graded tests, "All of you have shown _improvement_."

Something about the way Splinter emphasized the word "improvement" made Raphael nervous. He greedily snatched Mikey's test paper out of his hands from across the table.

"Hey!"

"Aw maaaan," Raph groaned, and slid it across, back to Mikey, "Even _Mikey_ beat me. I _hate_ math."

The brothers were seated around the kitchen table, where they usually gathered to do their schoolwork. Every day, after training and a much-needed shower, they'd convene there to begin the day's studies, three of them trudging wearily, while Donnie practically skipped to get to his favorite part of the day. Lessons were usually cobbled together from books rescued out of school and library dumpsters, and _sensei_ _'_ _s_ own knowledge.

"It's not a _competition_ , Raph," Leo sniffed.

"At least you didn't fail!" Donnie added, trying to be encouraging.

"Pfft. Says Captain Kiss-ass and his sidekick, Straight-A-Sally."

"Hey!" Donnie pouted, and Raph immediately felt guilty. Donnie had stayed up late trying to help him study, but it only frustrated him more, realizing how easily things came to his nerdy brother and how difficult it was for him.

"There's no need to be _rude_."

"Oh, _bite_ me, Leo."

" _Yame!_ _"_ Splinter said, warningly, "Raphael, we have spoken about language."

" _Hai, sensei."_

"Now. I believe there has been an aspect of your education I have been neglecting."

"Cool!" Mikey beamed, "We're gonna learn the dirty stuff!"

"What's the dirty stuff?" Leo asked, looking nervous.

"Y'know," Mikey said, in a conspiratorial whisper, holding his hand to the side of his mouth, "S-E-X!"

"Ew!" Leo said, wrinkling his nose and turning reddish-green, "Mikey!"

"W-why d'you think that, Mikey?" Donnie asked, with a nervous glance at his father. Raph smirked. He had checked Donnie's browser history once, after he'd been up all night doing "research."

" _Research," my scaly green_ tail.

"I dunno," Mikey shrugged, "'Cuz we haven't learned it yet and now that we're all double-digits we're like, practically official teenagers, almost. Besides, we gotta be ready when we're finally allowed to go topside and we're all knee-deep in bitches."

" _Michelangelo!_ _"_ _Sensei_ scolded, horrified disbelief on his rat-like features.

"Sorry. When we're knee-deep in _young ladies_ ," he course-corrected with a sheepish grin.

"You're _gross!_ _"_ Leo scolded, "And you watch too much MTV."

" _Like a virgin! Hee!_ _"_ Mikey burst out in song, hopping up out of his chair and wiggling his hips at Leo, running his hands suggestively over his plastron, _"_ _Touched for the very first tiiiiiiiime!_ _"_

Donnie slapped a hand over his mouth and guffawed, with his little signature follow-up snort. His smile faded at a withering glare from _sensei._

"You don't even know what that _means,_ " Leo snapped, ignoring Mikey's dancing and folding his arms crossly.

"Oh, like you do? Why don't you go ahead and tell us, Leo?" Mikey challenged.

"I _could_ ," Leo lied defensively, with a blush, "I just don't _want_ to."

"Yeah, right," Mikey said triumphantly. He adopted a dreamy, musing expression. "I bet it's dirty, though. It's gotta be, it's _Madonna._ "

"Where did you even learn that, hmm?" Leo asked, looking to get Mikey in trouble for embarrassing him.

"It was on 'I love the 80's!' It doesn't even say 'Viewer Dissection Advised' at the beginning, which means it's totally allowed, so eat a whale, tattle-tale!"

"You first, liverwurst!" Leo retorted hotly.

"It's _'_ _discretion,_ _'"_ Donnie mumbled to nobody, but Mike had already grabbed two empty drinking glasses off the dish rack and was holding them over his plastron like a cone bra.

" _Cuz we are liiiiivin_ _'_ _in a material world! And I am a material girl!_ _"_

Raph shook his head. Like anyone was ever gonna wanna do S-E-X with a mutant turtle, anyway. Mikey could be so damn stupid sometimes.

 _Then again, this is the same Mikey who just kicked your ass at math. Yep - the one prancing around pretending to be Madonna is officially smarter than you._ Now _who's stupid? Loser._

"I think…we will leave this subject for another day," Splinter said, his weary, long-suffering expression partially obscured by his palm, "What I _was_ referring to, are the _arts._ "

The boys looked at each other dubiously.

"Like…martial arts?" Mikey offered, putting the glasses back in the dish rack. Raph made a mental note not to drink from those. It'd be too weird. "Cuz…we're already gettin' pretty good at the _ninjutsu._ "

"I am referring to more creative, cerebral art forms, Michelangelo," Splinter tried again, "You have honed your bodies, become strong fighters…but you are all named after great Renaissance artists, great _thinkers_. It is my wish for you to be as well-rounded as your namesakes. You are each to select an art form and explore your artistic gifts in your free time. And no, Michelangelo," he added wearily, as Mikey's hand shot in the air, "Burping the alphabet is _not_ an art form."

Mikey sadly put his hand back down.

"I will give you a day to contemplate what you might like to study."

"Yeah, uh," Raph said, raising his hand even as he was already speaking, "What if we don't got any 'artistic gifts?'"

" _Have,_ " Donnie corrected automatically, and Raph shot him a dirty look, "But Raph's right. I mean, I like a good opera as much as the next turtle, but…that doesn't mean I can sing one."

Raph rolled his eyes. Don could be such a snob sometimes. "Ooo, look at me, I listen to fat people howling in a foreign language for fun, I'm so cultured." Whatever.

"I mean," Donnie continued, "Mikey's the one that can draw."

"Oh hey, yeah!" Mikey said, a smile growing on his face as if he just remembered, "Hey, um, _sensei?_ Can drawing be my arty thingie?"

"Yes, Michelangelo," Splinter nodded, "Drawing would be fine."

"Oh _come on!_ _"_ Raph whined, "Mikey just gets to doodle superheroes in his notebook like always?! That's not even _work!_ _"_

"Making art doesn't have to be a _chore_ , Raphael," Splinter chided, "Many people derive enjoyment from it."

"What kind of art do you do, _sensei?_ " Leonardo asked, his eyes wide. Raph rolled his eyes again. Clearly Leo would want to do exactly whatever it was _sensei_ did. Why did his brothers have to be _extra_ annoyingtoday?!

Splinter gestured behind them to the scrolls hanging on either side of the dojo entrance, where brush-painted _kanji_ hung with words like "Discipline," and "Honor."

"I practice traditional Japanese brush calligraphy."

Raph's eyes widened. Woah. He had no idea _sensei_ had made those. He figured he'd always had 'em, or bought 'em in a store when he was still human, maybe.

"You _made_ those?!" Mikey cried in awe, echoing Raphael's thoughts, " _Woaaah!_ That's so cool!"

" _Dibs!_ _"_ Leo shouted, "That's what I wanna do. Can you teach me, _sensei?_ "

Raphael sighed audibly. Kiss-ass.

"Of course, Leonardo," Master Splinter beamed serenely, and Raph scowled, wishing that just once he could be the favorite, even just for one day.

Donatello made eye contact with Raphael, and Raph could see he was about as thrilled with this plan as he was.

"Well?" Mikey prompted, nudging Donatello, "What are you gonna do, D?"

"Like I said," Donnie said, frustratedly fiddling with his _bo_ harness, "I have no idea. I'm not really a creative type. I'm more into facts and figures, machines, computers…"

He got a funny look.

"Huh…maybe…"

He trailed off. He was always doing that - trailing off in mid-sentence, or randomly blurting something totally unrelated in the middle of a conversation. It was like his brain was too busy to stay in one place, so it wandered all over.

Actually, when they were really little, they all suspected _Donnie_ might be the dumb one, because he never really paid attention, and he always had this dazed, distracted expression on his face…sometimes his lips would be moving slightly, like he was having a conversation with himself, and you'd have to call his name a few times before he'd snap out of it.

One day, though, when Splinter announced a new book to read, Donnie calmly announced that he had already finished it.

"You've already read this book?"

"I read all of them. Even the ones under your bed. Can we get more please?"

Splinter blinked.

"Those…those are Shen's books."

"I know. They had her name in 'em."

"…her _college_ books."

Donnie nodded absent-mindedly, already distracted by the broken television he'd taken a shine to.

"They are also in _Japanese._ "

" _Watashi wa manabimashita_ _._ _"_ Donnie replied, _"_ _Sore wa muzukash_ _ī_ _kotode wa arimasendeshita_ _._ _"_

The broken television he'd been toying with fizzed, and sparked to life.

" _Yatta!"_

He smiled at them in satisfaction, showing the gap in his teeth, as they stared back in stunned silence, their faces illuminated by the snow on the television screen.

They never thought Donnie was stupid again.

"There is no rush," Master Splinter said, and Raph was snapped back to the present moment, "As I said, you can take the day to think it over."

Raph didn't need a day. He already knew he was screwed.

The next morning found Raphael, Michelangelo, and Leonardo stretching in the dojo, preparing for their morning training.

"Where is your brother?" Splinter asked without preamble, as he entered the dojo.

"Dunno," Mikey said, "I knocked on his door this morning but he didn't answer."

"Maybe he fell asleep in the lab again?" Leo ventured, "Do you want me to check, _sensei_?"

"Sorry! Sorry!" Donnie called in reply, the sound of his feet slapping from the hallway. He poked his head into the dojo. There were dark circles under his eyes, but he had a thrilled, manic expression they recognized all too well - he had invented something.

"I was up all night," he babbled, deliriously, "I have something cool to show you!"

Without another word, he disappeared again. Seconds later, his frowning face poked back into the dojo.

"Well, come on!"

Sighing and shaking his head with a smile, Master Splinter lead the way, and the others followed, Leo frowning dubiously, and Mikey and Raph bringing up the rear, sharing a quick high-three at delaying their grueling workout for another few minutes.

Donnie flung himself into his computer chair and wheeled it over to his console as they entered the lab. "So I did a little research on the internet last night."

Raph snorted. But sensei gave him a warning look, so he plastered what he hoped was a perfectly innocent expression on his face.

"Actual research," Donnie drawled, making annoyed eye contact with Raph, "Into modal counterpoint! And I programmed the computer, to do…this!"

Beaming, he pressed a key, and suddenly the lab was flooded with a series of electronic beeps, clicks, grinding sounds, and…

Raph squinted. Wait…it made a sort of…sense? Actually…

"See? It's a Bach fugue! I used these old dial-up modems and I programmed them to play it! It's the "Little Fugue" in G minor, actually, BWV number 578."

Raphael had no earthly clue what this meant.

"Counterpoint is exactly like coding! It has all these rules, and so long as you follow them, it makes music! So I downloaded this music program, and here, I wrote my own variation…"

He clicked another button. The modems ceased their racket, and harpsichord music streamed forth - impossibly complex, layers interweaving and overlapping…it was like listening to math. Raph felt an odd sense of panic hearing it, and he looked at his little brother like he was seeing him for the first time. How did he even make sense out of all of this? How could anyone think so many things all at once, and hear how it would all _fit_ like that? Is this what he was doing when he was sitting there coding, or programming, or whatever he called it? Is this what went on in his head when he was staring off into space, mumbling to himself?

Raph felt a nervous sweat prickle his neck and his armpits. He'd never been more aware of the gulf of difference between himself and Donatello.

 _Damnit. I_ am _the stupid one._

The music finally finished.

"Hm," Donatello muttered, stroking his chin, "That should have been an F-sharp at measure seventy-two. Sorry, I dunno how I missed that. Stupid. Let me just…"

He started typing away, and Raphael found himself bubbling over with rage.

Stupid?

He was sitting there calling himself stupid?

Like _any_ of them knew an F-sharp from a hole in the ground. Like Donnie wasn't already _perfectly_ aware that he was some kind of super genius.

Now he was just rubbing it in.

But even as he thought it, Raph came to the even worse conclusion that Donnie wasn't the type to rub it in…wasn't the type to brag. He had said it _casually_ , lightly…like this wasn't even work for him - like he wasn't even breaking a sweat.

"Excellent work, my son," Splinter said, patting Donnie's head affectionately, "Most impressive. But there is a time for everything, a time to work, a time to _sleep_ …and now, it is time for training."

" _Hai, sensei,_ _"_ Donatello said, still squinting at the monitor, "Let me just…"

But _sensei_ just smiled, and dragged his rolling chair away from the computer. Donnie giggled, still reaching for the keys, then finally gave up.

"Okay, okay. I'm going."

He yawned, and hopped up out of the chair, turning to Raph expectantly.

For a moment, Raphael just scowled back at him.

 _Traitor._

They were supposed to be in this together, supposed to be hating this whole "arts and crafts" kick together. Now he'd gone ahead, like always, and blown all the rest of them out of the water with his towering genius, with his great big _brain_ , bursting with -

"Um, Raph? You're kinda…blocking the door."

Startled, Raph hopped awkwardly out of the way before he could think to do something cool or menacing and scowled at his feet, as Leo and Mikey snickered together.

Great. Laugh it up. All of Splinter's perfect little star pupils.

What was it Mikey said once? All the good ones end in "O."

Once, and only once, they had gotten into a food fight while _sensei_ was out. Mikey had flung a slice of pizza at Raph's head. He had ducked into his shell, out of the way, and when he looked behind him, the pizza had stuck to the wall, and was slowly sagging its way down, leaving a greasy trail of cheese behind it.

It had seemed funny at the time…they all laughed. But now, as they walked back to the dojo, Raph dragging his feet, he felt his anger sagging slowly into misery, exactly the way that piece of pizza slid down the wall.

He did what was required of him in training, but no more…usually he and Leo pushed themselves the hardest, Leo to impress sensei, and Raph to beat Leo…but today his heart just wasn't in it. When they moved into sparring, he blocked, defended, but barely attacked. Leo kept giving him funny looks, waiting for his usual onslaught, but it never came.

"What's with you?" he hissed, glancing at _sensei_ out of the corner of his eye, "Quit doggin' it."

"I'm not _doggin_ _'_ it," Raph growled, and attacked just to shut him up.

Later, in the showers, he grimaced as he listened to Mikey cycle through the works of Madonna.

" _Come on, Vogue!_ _"_ he sang into the bottle of body wash, _"_ _Let your body goooo with the flowwww!_ Why am I sooooooo good at singing, you guys? Hey, maybe _that_ should be my arty thingie!"

"Stick to drawing," Leo teased, throwing a sponge at his head. Mikey whapped it away with the bottle and it bounced off of Donnie's head, who laughed, caught it on the back of his foot, and flicked it back to Leo.

"Hack!"

"Ey!" Leo said, catching it on his ankle, and kicking it back to Mikey.

"Sack!" Mikey finished, catching the sponge and kicking it from foot to foot, "Oo! Or dancing! Hey, Raph, maybe you're a ballerina! Heh heh!"

He flicked his foot and sent the sponge flying towards him. Raph let it bounce off his plastron and hit the floor, shooting Mikey a murderous glare.

"Or not," Mikey mumbled, hastily capping the soap and resuming his shower, "Sheesh."

Once they were clean and dry, they reconvened at the kitchen table, where sensei was waiting for them.

"For Michelangelo," he announced, and handed him a small bundle tied with string. There was a book at the bottom titled enthusiastically, "Everyone Can Draw!" Its pages were slightly warped, as though it had gotten wet. On top, was a sheaf of fresh, white paper - Raph's eyes widened. He had no idea where _sensei_ had found such pristine paper. And on top of that, a little plastic box which rattled slightly when Michelangelo took it from sensei. It looked like it was filled with pencils, pens, and erasers, only lightly used.

"Wow! New stuff!" Mikey beamed, his eyes wide, "Thanks, _sensei!_ _"_

"You are very welcome, my son," Splinter smiled, "Now, for Donatello…"

He reached into the sleeve of his robes and withdrew a few cassette tapes.

"I think you will enjoy these."

"The B Minor Mass," Donnie said, reading the covers, "And selections from Handel, including the Royal Fireworks Music. Cool! Thanks, _sensei!_ _"_

"Perhaps they will provide you with new inspiration… _after_ you have taken a nap," Splinter said, with a warning note in his voice, "I don't want you staying up all night anymore."

 _"_ _Hai, sensei,_ _"_ Donnie said, sheepishly, "I just got excited."

"What about me, _sensei?_ _"_ Leo asked, grinning eagerly.

Splinter smiled, and turning, took the potted bamboo plant off the kitchen counter and handed it to Leonardo.

"Um…thanks?" he said, curiously, "Sensei - you remember that we were doing brush-painting, right?"

"Of course, Leonardo," Splinter smiled serenely, "And for that, you require a brush, do you not?"

Leo frowned, then his eyes flew open as he looked down at the bamboo plant.

"But…your plant," he said, sadly.

"I can always find another," he soothed, patting Leonardo on the head.

Raph scowled, and scuffed his toes on the floor. Great. Everybody got new presents.

"Now, Raphael," Splinter said, turning to face him, "Have you decided what branch of the arts you will be pursuing?"

Raph felt his face get hot, realizing that everyone was looking at him waiting for him to answer. He just shrugged noncommittally.

"Hm. Perhaps you would like to study with one of your brothers?"

Raph's scowl deepened. Like hell he would. He had no freakin' clue what Donnie did to make that music, and he couldn't bear the idea of Mikey being better than him even at drawing…all Raph could do was a stick figure. And he'd rather pull out a tooth than do Leo's foofy, kiss-ass brush painting. Besides, Leo would just give him that look, like he was tryin' to steal his thunder or somethin'.

"This is dumb," Raph muttered, seditiously, "I don't wanna do it."

Leo's eyes widened, and Raph looked away, scowling. He knew he was pushing the limits.

"Raphael," Master Splinter said, evenly, "Everyone is doing this assignment. You as well."

"It's super lame, though. Can't I just, like, do extra training or somethin'?" he whined quietly.

Splinter scowled, and opened his mouth. Raph knew that look. He was about to get scolded, maybe even get flips for being insubordinate, which was a fancy word for mouthin' off.

But just as suddenly, sensei closed his mouth again and regarded him contemplatively.

"Hm. Very well," he said, "Dojo."

"What?!" Mikey cried, "No fair!"

"What do you care?" Don asked, rubbing his eyes sleepily, "You're just doodling in your notebook anyway."

"Nuh-uh!" Mike pouted, and held up his book, "I've got a real book and everything! I'm totally gonna be a _real_ artist and draw like…fruit and naked people and serious stuff! If we gotta do art stuff then Raph should, too!"

"You," Splinter said, indicating Donatello, "Bed. You," he jutted his chin at Mikey, "Draw. And you," he jutted his chin at Leo, "Take out a sheet of paper and a pencil, and practice the _kanji_ for 'Student.' When I return, you can try it with my brush, and then we will make you a brush of your own."

" _Hai, sensei,_ _"_ they all chorused, with varying levels of enthusiasm.

Master Splinter swept off towards the dojo, and Raphael followed reluctantly. He bowed as he entered the room, Splinter already waiting in the center of the dojo with his arms folded behind his back. He turned to face Raphael.

"So. You wanted to train. Let us train. Show me the Five-Point Strike _kata._ "

Raph felt nervous. It sounded like _sensei_ had something else in mind, but he didn't know what. Taking a deep breath, he sank into stance, and focused on a point across the room. Moving swiftly through the _kata_ , he exhaled with each sharp, decisive motion - Kick, punch, punch, step, sweep!

He glanced nervously at his _sensei,_ awaiting feedback.

"Mm," he replied, "Again. This time, add two front kicks at the end."

Raph felt his stomach start to tie in knots. No corrections? No adjusting his form?

No, he knew his form was good. Maybe he did it too fast? _Sensei_ was always telling him to slow down, to focus the energy in his strikes.

He returned to his starting position, took a deep breath, and sank into a crouch again. Taking extra care to let his breath motivate each gesture, he launched himself into the _kata_ : Kick, punch, punch, step, sweep, right front kick, then changing legs in midair for a left front kick!

"Mm," _sensei_ said enigmatically, "Again. Just the Five-Point Strike, no front kicks."

Raph scowled. Was he going to say _anything?_ Or just watch him do it over and over and make him keep guessing what he did wrong? Did he flub something with the kicks?

Sulking, he stomped back over to starting position, and performed the Five-Point Strike kata once again, an extra little hiss at the end punctuating the sweep, as he pictured sending Leo crashing to the mat.

He stood, put his hands on his hips, and rudely waited for sensei to say something.

"Good," Master Splinter said, already moving out of the dojo, "Repeat that pattern."

"What pattern?" Raph asked, bewildered.

"Five-Point Strike; Five-Point Strike with two added front kicks; then Five-Point Strike again. Then rest for one minute, and start again. Continue until I return."

"But _sensei_ , I - "

"You wanted to train," Splinter replied, in a warning tone of voice that clearly indicated he was through explaining, "So train."

Raph scowled as Splinter swept from the dojo.

"Now, let us see about this brush, Leonardo."

So. That's what this was, then. Busy work. Just something to keep him occupied while he paid attention to the brothers that actually mattered.

Raph felt his eyes stinging hot. He didn't know what he expected. He had refused to do the assignment, after all. This must be his punishment.

Wiping his eyes brusquely, he sank into position again.

Fine. At least he didn't need to embarrass himself in front of his brothers. Splinter must have finally admitted it was a lost cause, finally realized the truth - he really didn't have any "artistic gifts." This is what he was good at - what he was good for.

Fighting.

He launched himself relentlessly into the _kata_ , losing himself in the rhythm, putting all his hurt and anger and wounded pride into each gesture:

Kick, punch, punch, step, sweep!

Kick, punch, punch, step, sweep, kick, kick!

Kick, punch, punch, step, sweep!

Then stomp, stomp, stomp back to starting position, take a deep breath, and sink back into a crouch to start it all over again.

As he worked, he could hear snatches of what was going on out in the kitchen.

"Hold still, Leo," Mikey was saying, "I can't get the shape of your head right."

"Sorry," Leo replied distractedly, then, "Are you sure, _sensei?_ I feel awfully bad."

"It is only fur, Leonardo," he replied, "It will grow back. Besides, I certainly think I have enough to spare, don't you?"

Leo giggled, and there was a metallic snipping sound of scissors, and then a clatter as they were set on the table once more.

"There we are. Now, we fold it into the newspaper, like so…and tie it into a bundle. Go ahead - that's right, tighter. Good. Now we boil it."

"Boil it?"

"Yes. It cleans the hair and helps to straighten it. Once that's finished, lay it out on this strip of leather, comb through it carefully to line up all the hairs, and make sure they are all even with the straight edge. When that's finished, call me, and I will come and help you."

"But that means he has to move," Mikey objected.

"You must learn to draw from your memory as well, Michelangelo. Don't you know what your own brother looks like?"

Mikey giggled.

"I am going to go check on Donatello."

Raph felt an aching sense of loss. They were having fun out there, and _sensei_ had even given Leo some of his own fur to make his stupid brush. Even Donnie got to lay around in bed doing nothing, at least.

Raph forced himself to continue practicing, but the motions began to feel dull, robotic, and heavy.

After what felt like hours, when his limbs were aching and trembling from effort, Master Splinter finally reentered the dojo.

" _Yame,_ _"_ he said, "Kneel."

Exhausted and sad, Raphael knelt obediently, staring at the tatami mat beneath his knees.

To his surprise, Master Splinter crossed and knelt down in front of him. Raph saw he was carrying a spiral notebook and a pencil with an eraser. The notebook was red, and seemed lightly used - he must have got out of a school dumpster. "Math" was written on the cover in black marker, and there were little doodles of skulls and stars and band names on it. At least it wasn't a girlie notebook this time. His last notebook had "I heart N*SYNC" scribbled all over it. He had tried to cover it with permanent marker, but the indentation still showed through.

"An old silent pond," Master Splinter said, serenely, "A frog jumps into the pond…splash! Silence again."

Raph squinted. Was that, like…some kind of riddle?

"That is a _haiku_ ," Master Splinter explained, answering his silent thoughts, "A famous _haiku_ , by the great poet Bashō."

"That's a poem?" Raph said, dubiously, "Just those couple'a sentences?"

"Like many things in life," Master Splintercontinued, his face strangely grave, "A _haiku_ is very brief…and is more beautiful for it."

He looked away for a moment, his jaw working. Raph always wondered what he was thinking about when he did this. After a moment, sensei cleared his throat and turned back to Raphael.

"It has a very specific format - five syllables, then seven, then five again."

"I don't get it," Raph said, wrinkling his nose.

"Think of your kata you were just practicing, and listen again. As I speak the poem, picture yourself performing the kata in your mind."

Raph sighed, closed his eyes, and imagined himself in a ready stance.

"An - old - si - lent - pond," Master Splinter said, emphasizing each syllable.

(Kick, punch, punch, step, sweep.)

"A - frog - jumps - in - to - the - pond."

(Kick, punch, punch, step, sweep, kick, kick.)

"Splash! Si - lence - a - gain."

(Kick! Punch, punch, step, sweep.)

"Huh," Raphael said, opening his eyes, "Okay, I get it. It's like, the words match the rhythm of the _kata_."

"Exactly," Master Splinter smiled. He handed Raphael the notebook, and he took it dubiously.

"I suspect, Raphael," he continued, "That you have a singular gift for haiku."

"That I - wait, what?!" he asked, with a note of panic, "You want me to - "

He lowered his voice, glanced out the dojo door where Leo and Mikey were chattering away happily as they worked.

"You want me to write… _poetry?_ " he hissed, in a shameful whisper.

"Yes."

"Like…actual poetry?" Raph repeated, aghast, "Like, hearts and flowers, 'Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou' crap?"

"The subject of your _haiku_ is entirely up to you. It can be about …oh, I don't know. Fighting, or motorcycles, or," Splinter grimaced, _"_ _Pro-Wrestling._ It is entirely your choice - I will not censor you."

"No way," Raphael said, flatly, "They're gonna laugh at me."

"No one will read your _haiku_ except me," Master Splinter continued, serene and undeterred.

"But - "

"Raphael," Master Splinter said, standing smoothly, "If you wish to leave this dojo, you will need to write me one _haiku_. And one every day hereafter. You will give me your notebook each night, and I will return it to you each morning. This is part of your school work, now."

Raph groaned, and opened his mouth to protest, but _sensei_ fixed him with a challenging glare, and Raphael knew there was no arguing with him.

Begrudgingly he took the notebook and pencil, and opened it to a fresh page.

"Mm."

Master Splinter swept out of the dojo.

"Ah, good. Now, we need to trim the hair so it is all the same length…then we can roll it, and tie it with the thread…"

About an hour later, Raph trudged out of the dojo, notebook in hand.

"Well done, Leonardo," Splinter beamed, holding up several brush heads all tied together in a long string, like fish on a line, points starched. "Once the bamboo we cut has dried, we can choose the best one, fire the end, and then glue it in place."

"Look," Michelangelo interrupted, eager for praise, "I drew Leo while he was working."

"Quite good! When you are shading, Michelangelo, always remember which direction the light is coming from. This will show you where the shadows are meant to fall."

" _Hai, sensei!"_

There was a noisy yawn, and Donnie trudged down the stairs, rubbing his eyes.

"You were going to wake me up," he said to the room at large, accusingly. He was always grumpy when he first woke up.

"You needed to catch up on your sleep," Master Splinter said, firmly, "Now. Put your things away, and we will have lunch. Then you can have some free time before our afternoon studies."

" _Hai, sensei!"_

As casually as he could, Raph dropped his notebook on the table for _sensei_ to collect, and set about grabbing the dishes to set the table.

"What's that?" Mikey asked, pointing at it.

 _Damnit._

"Instead of his art assignment, your brother is doing some extra Math homework," Splinter replied, taking the notebook from the counter before Michelangelo could get too nosy.

Mikey gaped in horror.

"Extra training _and_ extra math homework?! Dude - you should just hang out with me and draw!"

Raph shrugged nervously, and rubbed Mikey's head as he passed by.

"S'aright. I gotta practice."

Gathering the rest of their things, Master Splinter went to store them in the dojo as Leo and Raph set the table, Donnie poured them all milk, and Mikey set about making them sandwiches for lunch.

Once he was in the dojo, no longer able to resist his curiosity, he opened the red notebook and checked Raphael's work…it had been erased and re-written many times, and he could see little hash marks in the margin, where he'd been counting the syllables…but his heart sank at the bitter fruits of his son's labor.

 _This is so stupid._

 _I am not like my brothers._

 _I don't have a gift._


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Raphael was comforted by his typical routine. He rose early, brushed his teeth, drank a glass of milk, and hit the dojo a little early to warm up. Leo was already there, of course - goodie two shoes. But it was still nice and quiet, and they politely ignored each other as they stretched, and ran a few _katas_ to limber up. They both appreciated quiet in the morning, and didn't feel the need to fill the empty spaces.

Donnie joined them soon, however, and he and Leo struck up a friendly conversation about their wonderful new arts-and-crafts projects which Raph was determined to tune out. Splinter swept in not long after, followed immediately by Michelangelo, scrambling noisily into the dojo and bobbing a hasty, sloppy bow.

"I'm not late, I'm not late! I'm here! I - "

"Michelangelo. When I arrived in the dojo this morning, were you waiting patiently for me, warmed up and prepared to train?"

"Nooooo _sensei_ ," Mikey pouted.

"Then you are late. And you owe me ten flips, once you have warmed up."

" _Haaaaaaai, sensei._ "

So much for peace and quiet.

Practice went well, at least. Raph reveled in doing something physical - when his body was at work, his mind was finally still, focused…a hard work-out was one of the only times he felt at peace, when the unpleasant background noise of his thoughts and feelings dropped away, drowned out by the more pressing demands of the present moment.

He even managed to beat Leo when it was time to spar, which always made the morning a little more cheerful. He smirked, as he reached a hand down to help Leo up off the mat. Leo, scowling, ignored it and got up on his own, like he always did.

"Nice one," he admitted, and Raph knew the words tasted sour in his mouth, because he himself had said them before, picking himself up when Leo managed to knock him to the mat, but he wasn't the one saying them today, and it felt pretty damn good.

Unfortunately, all good things had to end, and after a shower, it was time to drag his feet over to the kitchen table to start their school day.

Today was multiplying and dividing fractions, which pretty much blew Raph's mind. He couldn't conceive of any situation ever, in the real world, which would require someone to do such a thing. Three fourths divided by five eighths? Three fourths of _what?!_ And why on earth would you divide it by five eights? He tried to think of it practically…three fourths of a pizza, divided by…what? Five eighths of a turtle?! Wouldn't you just divide by _five_ , then? Then each eighth-of-a-turtle could have one of the five pieces of the…of the three quarters of…

 _Damnit._

It all just seemed purposefully designed to be frustrating and pointless, so of course Donnie was perfect at it.

After Math it was time for History, which was actually not too horribly boring, except there was always the residual anxiety of knowing he'd be tested on it at some nebulous point in the future. Raph always found the stories interesting, but could never seem to remember the names, dates, and places come test time. When the question said, "Who shot Abraham Lincoln," or "In what year was President Lincoln assassinated?" you couldn't just be like "John Something Something in eighteen-something."

I mean, he remembered it was in a theater, and that the play was "My American Cousin," or "Our American Cousin," something like that…and that John Something Something jumped off the balcony onto the stage after he did it, and broke his leg, but he still shouted "Sic Semper Tyrannis!" before he ran away, which meant "Thus Always to Tyrants!" - which Raph figured was actually a pretty badass thing to shout if you were assassinatin' the President. And he had to give the guy props for running away on a broken leg. John Something Something actually seemed like a pretty cool dude, y'know - for an assassin…ator…ist.

But remembering the whole story apparently didn't count, because you had to say John _Something Something_ in eighteen- _something_ …which is stupid because "remembering the story" is pretty much the whole point of history, if you asked Raph, which no one ever did -

"…from which the American idiom 'his name is Mud' is derived. Now. Any questions?"

They all sat mutely, hoping this meant lunch.

"Very well. Since my pupils are so silent, I will assumed you are prepared to be tested on this subject tomorrow."

Mike let out a groan, and Raphael slouched resentfully in his seat. Guess he better memorize who John Something Something was pretty fast.

After lunch, Raphael was kind of hoping Splinter had forgotten all about his arts and crafts kick from yesterday, but sure enough, as soon as the table was cleared, out came Mikey's drawing supplies, out came Leo's brush-making supplies and the glue, and off Donnie went to his lab to write his creepy robot songs or whatever. Sure enough, the red notebook labeled "Math" was placed into Raphael's hands, a pencil tucked into the metal spiral, waiting for him.

Mikey gave him a sympathetic, pitying look.

 _Poor, stupid, talentless Raph has to sit and do more boring homework._

Scowling in reply, Raph stomped sulkily over to the sofa, and flipped the notebook open as the others set to work.

He was surprised to see another haiku beneath his, written in his sensei's steady hand:

 **This IS a haiku**

 **But next time, I wish that you**

 **would dig a bit deeper.**

Raphael scowled. Dig a bit deeper? What's that supposed to mean? And wait, how many?…

Frowning, he tapped his thumb, toggling between his two fingers, his lips moving as he counted the syllables.

" _Sensei?_ " he blurted, "I think you - "

He looked up, and was startled to see Leo, Mikey, and Master Splinter all staring back at him in surprise. Leo and Splinter had been in the middle of assembling his brush together, and Raph hadn't even bothered raising his hand, just barged in and interrupted mid-sentence - a habit _sensei_ had cured them all of ages ago.

"Oh," he said, blushing, "Sorry."

"It is fine, Raphael," Master Splinter said, surprisingly lenient, "You had a question about your math homework?"

"Yeah," Raph said, "It can wait."

"Why don't you go to the dojo and wait for me?" Splinter said, calmly, "That way we will not disturb the others while we work."

Raphael nodded, took his notebook, and went to wait in the dojo, ignoring the way his neck heated under Leo's surprised, curious stare.

Raph looked over the poem, and counted over and over again, wanting to make sure he was correct - nope - there was definitely an extra syllable at the end, there. It didn't seem like sensei to make such an obvious error.

"Ah. I see you found my response to your first haiku."

Raph looked up, and Master Splinter sank to the floor, sitting cross-legged, next to Raphael.

"I think… _sensei_ , I think maybe you made a mistake," Raph said, his stomach doing a little flip at actually saying it out loud, "The last line here, it has six syllables instead of five."

"Ah, you are correct, Raphael," Master Splinter said, with a smile, "But art is different from other disciplines, like Mathematics or Science. Sometimes, what is flawed in it is what makes it special."

Raph scowled doubtfully.

"There is a practice in Japanese pottery called _kintsukuroi_ ," Master Splinter continued, "Once broken, the piece of pottery is repaired using gold or silver lacquer to fuse the cracks…It is understood to be more beautiful, then, because of its flaws…in fact, can only reach the _height_ of beauty once it has been broken open."

"Huh." Raph wrinkled his nose, unconvinced.

"When Michelangelo - the _sculptor_ Michelangelo - finished his seated Moses, it was agreed upon by all that it was his most life-like creation to date. According to legend, upon its completion he struck it on the knee with his hammer, and cried, _'_ _Now, speak!_ _'_ There is a scar on the right knee of the statue to this day."

"Huh."

"Does that not make the statue more interesting? Should that scar be buffed away?"

Raph nodded slowly.

"I think I get it. Like…the crack in the Liberty Bell?"

"Yes, exactly, my son," Splinter beamed, "Or the crack in your plastron, for that matter."

He traced a claw over the old mark as he spoke, and Raph looked down at it. He kind of wasn't sure how he felt about that crack - sometimes he liked it, because it made him look tough, like he'd been in a fight (even though it had happened when he was a baby and he didn't even remember it.) Other times, though, it just reminded him that his brothers were pretty much perfect, and he pretty much wasn't.

"That crack makes me smile when I see it," Splinter said.

"Why?"

"Because it is unique to you," Splinter smiled warmly, "And I like you."

Raph grinned sheepishly. "Nuh-uh. Leo's the _uchideshi._ "

"Raphael," Splinter said, sternly, "Leonardo is an excellent student. But that does not change how I feel about you."

He placed a peck on Raphael's head. "You are still my favorite son."

Raph's eyes went round in shock. To hear it said so baldly, like that…he thought it would make him happy to hear it, thought that's exactly what he wanted to hear, but instead it just made him feel guilty and uncomfortable. The idea the _sensei_ really _did_ play favorites was way more frightening than it was reassuring.

"But," he stammered, "But what about Leo?"

"Hmm," Splinter said, nodding thoughtfully, "You make a good point. Yes. I would have to say, Leonardo is my favorite son."

Raph's eyes narrowed slyly, starting to catch on, "And Mikey and Donnie?"

"Of course," Splinter nodded, smirking slightly, "Yes, they are _definitely_ my favorite sons."

Raph rolled his eyes. "We can't _all_ be your favorite," he grumbled.

"Raphael," Splinter said, his exasperation beginning to show, "Do you think Donatello and Michelangelo are very similar?"

"Um. No, not really."

"Mm. And do you think I would love Donatello more if he suddenly started acting more like Michelangelo?"

Raphael tried to picture Donatello running around goofing off, making lame jokes, blowing off his homework, bursting into song and dance to annoy Leo, and the image actually made him snort.

"No. No, I guess not."

"Of course not," Splinter said, with a teasing grin, "And do you think I would love Michelangelo more if he suddenly started acting more like you?"

Raph's face fell as he pictured it - Mikey stomping around, scowling…being stubborn and reclusive, fighting with Leo all the time and never knowing the right thing to say…all that joy and light and playfulness extinguished.

"No," Raphael said, sadly, "You wouldn't love him at _all_."

Splinter leaned back and regarded Raphael in shock. Raph knew immediately he had said the wrong thing.

"Of _course_ I would," Splinter said, sternly. He gripped Raphael by the shell and actually shook him slightly. "Of _course_ I would!"

Raph's neck shrank a few inches into his shell involuntarily. _"_ _Hai, sensei._ _"_

Splinter sighed wearily, and shaking his head, pulled Raphael into his arms.

"Raphael - I love you very much, exactly as you are. I do not want you to be like Leonardo, or Donatello, or Michelangelo. Raphael is exactly who I would like you to be. _Hai?_ _"_

" _Hai,_ _"_ Raph muttered. His throat felt kind of painful when he swallowed, and his eyes were sort of hot, so he didn't say anything else for a while. Splinter didn't seem to be in a hurry, though. Raph looked down at the haiku Splinter had written him, and pointed at the final line.

"So…does this mean I can just…break the rules, then?"

Master Splinter laughed abruptly, and finally released him. "No."

"Hrm," Raphael grunted.

"Learn the rules _first_ , my son," Splinter smiled, " _Then_ you can choose when to break them."

He stood, and straightened his _yukata._

"For today's haiku, perhaps you could meditate on the subject of flaws."

"Mine, you mean?" Raph asked, dejectedly.

"Any. Yours, your brothers, mine."

Raph snorted. "You don't have any."

Master Splinter sighed heavily, and his gaze got that glazed, far away look he sometimes got.

"That is clearly not true. But then, we are all intimately acquainted with our _own_ flaws - after all, we have an insider's perspective. The flaws of others may be harder to see at first. But I assure you, everyone has them. Now. Write. I must return to your brothers."

Raphael sighed, nodded, and began tapping his pencil on the page, leaving little black dots.

Inspiration was slow to come. His thoughts were a kind of churning mess, and he wasn't sure how to take all that and put it on the paper in such a short, compact way. He still didn't have anything by the time _sensei_ told them to finish up and clear away their things.

Relieved, Raphael closed his notebook. He'd try again later. Mike was late to practice this morning - that was sort of a flaw, he guessed. Maybe he could make that into a haiku somehow.

Leonardo was testing out his new brush when he emerged from the dojo…his brow furrowed in concentration, and a sliver of pink tongue was poking out of his mouth slightly as he dragged the brush across the paper. He must have been pleased with what he was doing, because with a big smile, he made his final stroke, leaned back, and beamed at the page.

Still gazing proudly at his work, he went to replace the brush in the cup of water…and snagged the brush on the lip, promptly spilling it everywhere. The cup rolled lazily off the edge of the table and smashed on the kitchen floor below.

" _No!_ No, no, no, _no!_ _"_ he howled, "Towels! Newspaper! MIKEY, HELP!"

But it was far too late. His careful brush strokes were already bleeding and leeching into the paper in a blurry, inky mess.

Raph smirked, and almost laughed, but Leo's face looked so miserable and deflated, that the impulse died almost as quickly as it came. Instead, he tossed his notebook onto the sofa, walked over, and started picking up the broken pieces of ceramic off the floor, as Mikey tried to helpfully blot the paper above.

"It's not so bad," Mikey said encouragingly, patting Leo's painting with newspaper and kind of smudging it up even worse, "You can still sorta tell what it -

"It's ruined," Leo pouted, "Just leave it."

"Nothing lasts forever, Leonardo," Master Splinter said, patting him on the head comfortingly, "The point is, it was well done."

"But it's so _unfair!_ _"_ Leo sulked, "I wanted it to be _perfect!_ _"_

"And so it was," Master Splinter said, "In Buddhist temples, they spend many days creating beautiful mandalas out of colored sand. Then, in a moment, they sweep them away, destroying them forever. Nothing in this world is permanent, my sons. The point is to do our best with what we have in the time we are given. _Hai?_ "

" _Haaaai_ ," Leo sighed, and Raph caught just the teeniest, tiniest glimpse of an eye roll that almost made him like Leo a bit more.

"Just leave it," Leo told him, standing up, "I'll go get the broom."

"Maybe," Raph started, glancing up at Master Splinter uncertainly, "Maybe we can fix it?"

Master Splinter smiled indulgently.

"I am afraid we will have to make do with Elmer's glue…but yes - I think, perhaps, we should try to fix it."

Raphael smiled. Leo looked at him like he was crazy.

"Okay, but…it probably won't hold water anymore."

"You may keep your brushes in it, then," Master Splinter said, serenely, "Now, while you were talking, Michelangelo has cleaned your mess for you."

"Sorry. Thanks, Mikey," Leo said, taking the wad of wet, inky newspaper out of Michelangelo's hands, and throwing it in the garbage.

"No worries, bro," Mikey said, "Sorry 'bout your picture."

Leo sighed. "It's okay. I can always make another one I guess."

They had free time after that, which Leo and Mikey used to play video games together. Donnie still hadn't emerged from his lab, but that was par for the course when he was involved in a project.

Instead of playing video games, Raphael decided to ply his best efforts to the shattered mug, carefully determining which pieces fit together and gluing them in place. Leo was right - it would never hold water again without leaking, but…on the other hand, _sensei_ was kind of right, too. The pattern of cracks in the ceramic were kinda interesting. And now it was like the mug had its own story that made it special.

When he was finished, Raphael set the mug on the counter to finish drying, and grabbed his notebook from the sofa.

"More homework?" Leo asked, "Somebody's studying hard lately."

Raph shrugged defensively. "Yeah, so what?"

"So nothing," Leo said, tapping buttons distractedly, "Good for you."

Something about Leo's praise rankled Raph, like it always did. He didn't do things for Leo's approval. Whenever Leo paid him a compliment, he always heard the polar opposite of that compliment in his head, like a photo's negative. "It's good that you're studying" (because you really need it, stupid.) "Thanks for cleaning up," (because you're usually such a slob.)

Raph just shook his head and stomped off to write.

#2

 _I have many flaws_

 _But trying to be perfect,_

 _Leo broke the cup_

 **This is very true.**

 **We ALL make mistakes sometimes.**

 **Kindness. Patience. Glue.**


	3. Chapter 3

#3

 _Mikey is funny._

 _Donnie's smart; Leo works hard_

 _But who am I, then?_

 **Loyal, strong, and brave.**

 **Just be yourself, Raphael.**

 **You are all my sons.**

#4

 _Mikey skateboarding_

 _He's trying to be all cool._

 _Boom! Right on his ass._

 **He laughs and gets up.**

 **It doesn't seem to phase him.**

 **Admirable, no?**

 **(But still funny.)**

#5

 _LEO NEVER GETS_

 _IN TROUBLE BUT HE START HALF_ **("starts")**

 _OF IT SO LAME_ **(only four)**

 **It takes two to fight**

 **And as I recall, Leo**

 **did his share of flips.**

… _ **without**_ **complaining.**

#6

 _Board game without me._

 _It makes me kinda jealous._

 _I'm here too. Just ask._

 **Opportunity:**

 **Leave your room once in a while.**

 **Your door says "Keep Out."**

#7

 _Yeah, but Mikey will_

 _just come and break everything._

 _It's like, I can't win._

 **Checks and balances**

 **You can have the things you want**

 **But not all at once.**

#8

 _Said "hello" today._

 _Played Nintendo with Leo._

 _Glad the fight's over._

 **I am glad as well.**

 **He misses you when you fight.**

 **Try to remember.**

#9

 _THIS IS WHAT I MEAN_

 _CAN WE PLEASE TALK ABOUT MIKE?_

 _HE IS SO STUPID_

 **It's only water.**

 **I will have a word with him.**

 **Meanwhile: Seek revenge?**

#10

 _Got my poster wet_ _  
_ _So I soaked his comic book._

 _Now I'M the bad guy. X(_

 **That is not a PRANK.**

 **That is known as a "dick move."**

 **Say you're sorry, please.**

#11

 _Really? "A dick move?"_

 _That's…kind of hilarious._

 _You're funny sometimes._ _  
_

 **You have no idea.** **  
** **Pranks should be FUNNY for all.**

 **Check the laundry, please.**

#12

 _That's it. I give up._

 _All of my masks are now PINK._

 _I really hate him._

 **Dr. Prankenstein**

 **Strikes again. I think a truce**

 **Is probably best.**

(PS - I have already made you three new ones. Donatello has hidden them in his room for you. My advice, though? Wear the pink for a while. Confusion is a powerful ally to the ninja.)

#13

 _BEST SENSEI EVER._

 _It is driving him INSANE!_

 _Starting to like pink._

 **Classic ninjutsu:**

 **Disorient him, then strike.**

 **Pink is the new Red.**

#14  
 _One two three four five_ _  
_ _I have nothing to report._ _  
_ _Five four three two one._

 **Nice try, Raphael.** **  
** **If you** **'** **re bored, there are more chores?** **  
** **Do your homework, please.**

#15  
 _Mike:_ _"_ _When I grow up_ _  
_ _I_ _'_ _m gonna be a rapper!_ _"  
_ _No you_ _'_ _re not. Shut up._

 **Everyone has dreams.**

 **His are innocent enough.**

 **Does it bother you?**

#16  
 _Yes, because it hurts._

 _You didn_ _'_ _t see Donnie_ _'_ _s face._

 _He could be so much._

 **He already is.** **  
** **We do not choose our fortunes.**

 **We rise to meet them.** **  
**  
#17

 _It's hard to do that_ _  
_ _When you spend your entire life_

 _living in a sewer._ **(+1 extra)**

 **Enough, Raphael.** **  
** **I have heard this song before.** **  
** **You are not ready.**

#18

 _I hate it down here._

 _Are we EVER going up?_

 _I feel like we're not._

 **I am curious**

 **What do you think is up there?**

 **It's more than you think.**

#19

 _Daylight. Roller skates._

 _I wanna see the ocean._

 _And eat a hot dog._

 **Oh, my son. It's true:**

 **The world is full of small joys**

 **But such large sadness.**

#20

 _Okay, whatever._

 _So we're not going this year._

 _It's sad down here, too._

 **Ninja means "patience."**

 **I promise: When you're ready.**

 **I need you all safe.**

#21

 _Happy Mutation! (Day. :P )_

 _Thanks for the roller blades, Dad._

 _But maybe…next year?…_

 **I'm glad you like them.**

 **As I mentioned: Patience, please.**

 **We will wait and see.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Time jump. The turtles are 14. TW: Self harm.**

"What's 'Spin the Bottle?'" Mikey blurted, randomly.

Raph nearly spit out his cereal, and made furtive eye contact with his brothers before glancing at sensei, waiting for a reaction.

"Where on earth did you hear _that?_ _"_ sensei asked, his expression a mix of amusement and disgust.

"It was on the TV," Mikey said, animatedly, "They said it's a game, like they were gonna play it. Is it fun? Can we play?"

Donnie barked a short laugh, and then turned beet red under sensei's arched eyebrow.

"It is a foolish kissing game that teenage humans play," sensei said, his voice dripping with disdain, "And _no,_ I do not think that would be a good idea."

"Awww," Mikey pouted, "But it sounds fun! I bet it would be funny!"

"Nobody wants to kiss you, Mikey," Raph snapped, jabbing his spoon into his cereal in an ill-temper.

"Well duh, that's what makes it _hilarious,_ _"_ Mikey explained. He laughed abruptly. "Could you imagine if Leo had to kiss _sensei?!_ _"_

" _Ew!_ _"_ Donnie laughed, wrinkling his nose.

Leo scoffed, and shook his head at his cereal.

"What's the problem, _uchi-deshi?_ " Mikey taunted, pleased at getting a rise out of his brothers, "You already kiss his _butt._ _"_

" _Yame,_ _"_ Splinter said, warningly, "That is quite _enough,_ Michelangelo."

"I was just kidding…"

"Hrm. Eat your breakfast."

Leo gave Mikey a kick under the table for good measure, and he stuck his tongue out in reply.

"Man, I'd love to kiss Hannah Montana," Mikey sighed, turning away from Leo dreamily, "She has pretty blonde hair."

"You know that's not her real hair, right?" Donnie asked, in amusement.

"Of course it is!"

"It's a _wig!_ _"_ Donnie said, "You _see_ her take it on and off _on_ the show!"

"Does the wig belong to her?" Mikey asked, laying the sass on thick.

"Well, yeah…"

"Does it actually _exist?_ _"_

"Okay, but - "

"Then I guess it's _her, real, hair_ , now isn't it, genius?"

"I give up."

"You're just jealous because me and Hannah Montana are gonna go on dates, and go to prom, and make out in front of everybody, and then we'll get married and be all rich and famous and live in a big house in Hollywood with our weird little mutant babies, and - "

Raph slammed his hands on the table and stood, startling all of them.

" _Nobody is ever going to kiss you, Mikey!_ _"_ he snapped, "Nobody is _ever_ going to kiss _any_ of us, and if Hannah Montana ever _saw_ you, she'd probably run away screaming, so just _drop it,_ already!"

He took in their stark, shocked expressions - even sensei's. Even he was surprised by his own outburst. He sat back down abruptly, shame making his face burn hot.

"Like…never ever?" Mikey mumbled sadly. His eyes did that wibbly puppy dog thing and Raph just threw his spoon into his bowl and turned to stomp off.

" _Raphael!_ _"_ sensei called warningly, "You were not dism -

"May I _please_ be _excused?_ _"_ he huffed over his shoulder.

"Clean up your breakfast," sensei said, sternly, _"_ _Now._ _"_

Raph stomped back to the table, took his bowl, and emptied his soggy cereal into the garbage can. He started the sink with such ferocity that it sprayed off the spoon and misted him in the face. Scoffing in disgust, he lowered the water pressure and set about washing his dishes.

Even the running water wasn't enough to mask Mikey's quiet sniff, though. Suddenly all his anger shifted from outward to inward, and an intense wave of self-loathing seized him.

"It's okay, Mikey," Donnie said, giving him a soothing pat on the hand across the table, "Spin the Bottle sounds like a stupid way to spread herpes. Highly unsanitary."

"Besides," Leo added, "Imagine if you had to kiss somebody really _ugly_ , or _mean_ \- like _Raph._ _"_ He leaned over the back of his chair and shot Raph a dirty look for emphasis.

Raph shook his head, put his bowl in the dish rack and stormed off to his room.

They didn't get it.

They were never even going to _meet_ a girl, let alone kiss one. And if they ever did, she'd probably freak out and sic the other humans on them, to chop them up, cut them open, shoot them full of electricity - whatever it was humans do to _freaks_ like them.

The longer they waited - the longer it took Mikey to wake up and smell the sewer - the more painful it was going to be.

" _Yeah, you said all that out of the kindness of your heart, right?_ _"_ said the nasty voice in his head, _"_ _You_ _'_ _re a real_ nice _guy, Raph, making your stupid brother cry over his cereal for no damn reason._ _"_

As soon as the bedroom door closed behind him, Raphael already knew exactly what was going to happen.

Flinging himself down onto the edge of his bed, he put one leg over his knee, and worked the kneepad down over his bulging calf, tossing it onto the floor. His fingers traced the scar, just where his knee started turning into his inner thigh. It was already nearly faded from the last time…the time he swore to himself was the last time. Only the 'F,' the 'R' and the 'K' were still faintly visible.

Hell with it.

He reached back and unsheathed a sai, grabbing it by the central tine, like a pen, the other tines resting on his fist, and gritting his teeth, began to drag it over his dark green, pebbled skin, each little letter the perfect sting, taking the molten, burning, shame and making it physical, something he could control, something he had the power to handle. Beads of blood swelled in his progress…something about the way they blossomed up in the path of his sai was both slightly nauseating and deeply calming. He finished up the 'E,' and was starting on the 'A,' gritting his teeth and starting to sweat slightly as he deepened the mark, when there was a timid knock on the door, and to his horror, it began to swing open.

"Dude? I wanted to - "

Raph flung his sai onto his bed, and covered his leg with both hands.

Mikey stood there, looking puzzled.

"What're you doing?"

"Get out of my _room,_ Mikey!" he snapped, immediately hating himself for the way Mikey flinched at his strident tone of voice.

"I jus'…wanneda say sorry," Mikey pouted, and Raph immediately loathed himself even more. He had behaved like a compete asshole, made his only little brother cry, and he was standing there now trying to apologize to _him,_ and all he could do was yell at him and make it worse.

"It's fine," Raph said, "You didn't do nothin,' I'm just…I have a headache. That's all."

"You wanna ice pack?" Mikey said, perking up, his expression brightening, "I'll get it! You want one for your knee, too? Does your knee hurt? Why are you sitting there holding your knee? Is it - "

He abruptly cut himself off and his eyes went round with horror. Raph looked down, and saw that a drop of blood had come between his fingers, slid down his thigh, and dripped onto the floor.

"DONNIEEEEEEEE!" Mikey called, running out of Raph's room before he could even react.

"Wait! Mi - _Damnit!_ _"_

"Raphie's huuuurrrrt!" Mikey called, "Bring the stuff!"

Raph hastily took his knee pad and pulled it over his foot, trying hurriedly to yank it up over his calf. He winced as it scraped against his freshly opened cuts, only just managing to get it up over his knee when the door burst open again and Mikey came back, Donnie following shortly after holding the First Aid Box he was so proud of.

"It's nothing," Raph insisted, standing right away, "I just scratched it on a nail. It's fine."

"A nail?" Donnie asked, his brow furrowing, "Was it rusty? You might need a tetanus shot. I don't know if we _have_ any of those."

"It's fine," Raph sighed, "It wasn't rusty, okay?"

Don scowled dubiously. "It's really damp down here, Raph, if it was an exposed nail, then it was probably rusty. Besides, there's bacteria in the sewer that - "

"It's! - look, it's _fine,_ Mikey is just _exaggerating_ like he always -

"What happened here?" sensei asked, appearing in the doorway with Leo in his wake.

Raph felt his pulse roaring in his ears, and if he could have gotten away with it, he would have physically shoved all of them out of his room and barred the door. As it was, he tried the only other tactic he could think of.

"Why can't anybody leave me alone for _five minutes?!_ _"_ he snapped, knowing he was about to get grounded, but that at least, would land him alone in his room, "I'm _fine_ , it's just a _scratch._ I've had way worse in training, okay? Just - everybody get - "

"Raphie?…"

Raph turned in horror. He had been so busy shouting at the others he hadn't even noticed Mikey slip past him. He was standing at the edge of his bed, holding his sai, with a bloodied tip.

For a minute, everyone stood there in confusion.

"That's not mine," Raph blurted, stupidly.

Immediately he wished the earth would swallow him whole.

Of course it was his. Who the hell _else_ _'_ _s_ would it be?

Mikey looked up at Raphie and the look in his baby blue eyes made Raph want to rip that sai out of his hands and jam it in his own gut.

"What were you _doing?_ _"_ Mike asked, his eyes welling up.

Raph looked at the floor in shame. He had no answer.

He stumbled back in surprise as Mike dropped the sai back on to his bed, and shoved him with all his strength.

"What did you _do?!_ _"_ he repeated.

" _Nothing,_ _"_ Raph said defensively, "It was an accident. It just…slipped."

"No, it _didn_ _'_ _t,_ _"_ Mikey said, immediately, "You're _lying!_ _"_

He shoved him again, but this time Raph was ready for it, and he stood his ground, trying gently to pull Mikey's hands off his shoulders.

"You're a _liar!_ _"_ Mikey shouted, miserably, tears welling up. Raph was consumed with guilt. Twice in one day he'd made his little brother cry, and they'd barely finished breakfast.

"Everyone leave this room," sensei said, quietly.

Raph's stomach dropped to the floor.

Donnie and Leo hastily scuffled backwards into the hallway, Donnie's plastic First Aid box clunking against the doorframe as he went.

"Leave the box."

Donnie obediently took a step inside the door and set the box off to the side, so the door could close. He hastily stepped back into the hallway with Leo.

Mikey held his ground, face screwed up, tears now seeping into his mask. He kept looking from Raph back to his other brothers, unwilling to leave.

"Now, Michelangelo."

Wiping his eyes on his wrist wraps, Mikey stomped out of the room to join his brothers, closing the door behind him. Raph just barely heard Donnie and Leo start muttering soothing things to Mikey as they stepped away from the door.

For a moment he stood there under sensei's scrutinizing stare, his eyes fixed at the carpet, his heart hammering beneath his plastron.

"Sit."

"It's okay," Raph mumbled, hastily, "I can do it, sensei, I'll - "

" _Sit. Down."_

Guts twisting around like worms, Raph sank back onto his bed, the frame giving an anxious little squeak for him.

Master Splinter retrieved the plastic box from where Donatello had left it, and knelt in front of Raph's leg. He lifted his foot and placed it on his lap. Very carefully, he reached under the fabric of his kneepad, and lifting it away from the cut, began to carefully work it down.

"It's really not - I can do it my -

The words withered and died on Raphael's lips at the steely glare that sensei gave him. Involuntarily, his head shrank a few inches into his shell, and he looked away, waiting for the inevitable.

Sensei carefully worked the kneepad down. For a moment, the scratch was just a bloody smear, and Raph hoped against hope that he wouldn't be able to read it. But then sensei took out some gauze and hydrogen peroxide and Raph knew he was doomed.

Sensei carefully wet the gauze, and began patting the wound. It stung a bit, but not nearly as much as the burning shame. Raph squeezed his eyes shut, as wave after wave of heat ran up and down his entire body.

For a long time, sensei said nothing. Raph eventually opened his eyes, and saw sensei staring at the wound with an unreadable expression on his face. His amber eyes turned up to meet Raphael's, and he immediately directed his gaze back to the floor, a fresh jolt of anxiety prickling his skin. It wouldn't have been so bad if he had finished the entire word - at least he could lie and say it was the first time. But the faint outline of that 'K' at the end told a different story.

Sensei did not comment, but reached for a fresh gauze pad from the kit, and unwrapped it. He pressed it to Raphael's scratches, and then used a roll of medical tape to bind it in place. Once it was neatly mummified, he tore the tape off, carefully packed everything away, and closed the box.

He stood, folded his hands, and waited. Raphael had no idea what to expect. He just kept staring at the carpet between sensei's feet, where one drop of his blood had fallen, forever staining it.

"Give me your sai," sensei said, his voice just as unreadable as his face.

With trembling fingers, Raph reached for it at his side, and handed it to sensei, pommel-first. He took it from him, and held out his unencumbered paw.

" _Both_ of them."

Raph winced, and, burning with shame, reached behind him, unsheathed his other sai, and presented it to sensei again.

Sensei carefully arranged both sai in his hands, and held them forward for Raphael's inspection. He eyed the bloody point of one of them with burning misery.

"What are these?" sensei asked carefully.

"M's…s.."

" _Nani?"_

"My sai, sensei."

"Ah. So they _are_ yours."

Raph squeezed his eyes shut, and nodded. _"_ _Hai._ _"_

"Who gave these to you?"

Raph's head shrunk even lower into his shell.

"You, sensei," he whispered, wishing to be anywhere else on Earth but in this room right now.

"And who gave them to me?"

Raph blinked.

"Um. _Your_ sensei?"

"Mm," Splinter grunted his assent, "And who gave them to him?"

"Uh. Maybe…his sensei?"

"How old do you think these sai are?"

"Uh…real old?"

Master Splinter held them forward for Raphael's closer inspection, and he flinched. He would never have thought the sight of his own sai could make him flinch.

"They are over one hundred years old," he intoned, gravely, "They have been passed down through at least four generations of Hamato warriors. The knowledge to wield them has been passed down for five _centuries._ _"_

Raph winced. He could feel his eyes beginning to get hot, and he held his breath. The last thing he wanted to do was cry in front of Master Splinter.

"My master, Hamato Yūta, presented me with these weapons. He told me I had progressed far enough in my study of the sai to wield these weapons with honor - that I was worthy of that responsibility."

He paused.

"How do you think I felt? When my Master presented me with these weapons?"

Raph was still holding his breath, so he just stared at the red dot on the floor miserably.

" _Answer,_ _"_ sensei insisted, firmly.

Raph gasped a little air.

"Prou-ud?" he said, his voice cracking. Tears began to seep from his eyes into his mask.

"Yes," sensei said, "Very proud. And deeply honored."

Raph sniffed, and hastily wiped his nose on his wrist wraps.

"And how did you feel?" he pressed, "The day I, in turn, presented these weapons to you?"

"Proud," Raph repeated, tears now streaming down his face, "Proud, an' - happy. Like…I did something right."

"And what did I tell you that day?"

Raph took a jerky breath, and wiped his face again.

"That a weapon is…a repsonsi - ibility. And that I had earned that responsibility. And to always - - use them with - ho-onor. And that - "

His face screwed up with sobs, and he couldn't speak anymore. He just squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head slowly, the weight of his shame unbearable. There was a soft clank, as sensei placed the sai on his desk, and then the bed sank as Master Splinter sat next to him and gathered him in his arms.

"I'm sorryyyyy," Raph moaned softly into his chest.

"Shhh," Master Splinter said, stroking Raphael's head, "Shhhhh, shh shh."

"I'm sorry, sensei," Raph repeated, trying to control his voice.

"My son," he said, sadly, "My poor son. I do not remind you of this to make you feel ashamed. I tell you this to remind you of _who you are!_ Do you think I would give these weapons to just anyone? Do you think I would give them to someone _unworthy_ of them?"

" _You already did,_ _"_ said the nasty voice in Raphael's head.

"No," he replied, obediently.

"No," sensei repeated, and the softness in his voice made Raph's eyes sting afresh, "No, of course I would not. Raphael, I have tried to help you with this pain that you carry, but I fear none of my words have been helpful."

"You have," Raph blurted, hastily, "It's my fault, not yours, I - "

He held up a claw, and Raph cut himself off, looking down at the bed spread again.

"I think it is _your_ words, not mine, that will help you the most."

He stood, and crossed to Raphael's desk, where his sai waited. He picked them up carefully, but also picked up Raphael's haiku journal. He crossed to Raphael and put the notebook gently in his lap.

"I am giving you this," he said, "And taking these."

"You're taking them back?" Raph whispered, feeling completely gutted.

"They are still yours. I am _holding_ them for you," Master Splinter clarified, "Until you feel you are ready to ask for them back."

Raph nodded, sadly.

"No training. No school," Master Splinter said, firmly. He pointed one claw at the book in Raphael's lap. "Write."

"Hai, sensei," Raph whispered, obediently.

Sensei's face sagged as he took in Raphael's defeated posture. He crossed back over to the bed, dropped Raphael's sai down with an unceremoniously clatter, and gathered his son into his arms once more. Raph eyed his sai nervously - after all that about how special and important they were, he'd just dumped them there.

"I _love_ you, my son," he said, fervently, and Raph was dismayed to hear the emotion in his voice, to realize just how much pain he'd caused him.

"I love you too," he mumbled, wrapping his arms around his father and squeezing him tight.

Sensei released him, picked up his sai again and headed for the door. Before he opened it however, he paused, and then turned around.

"The word you chose…that _ugly_ word," sensei started, and Raphael lowered his gaze to the floor again.

"It means two things. It means someone who is different - but also someone who is alone. Someone who is cast out."

Raph shuffled his feet awkwardly. He knew what the word meant. Why else would he have used it?

"You _are_ different, Raphael. We all are. It would be foolish to pretend otherwise. But you are _not_ alone. You are a member of a proud and ancient clan of ninja warriors. You carry their lives, their stories, and their honor with you. And you are a member of this family. You have three brothers - and you are my _son_. You are _never_ alone - and you are deeply loved."

Raph swallowed, and nodded. More and more he felt the scratches under the bandages like a burning brand, evidence of his ingratitude. He had been selfish - thinking only of himself. He'd brought dishonor to his clan, to his family - to his father.

Splinter's eyes softened as if he could read his son's thoughts, and he sighed.

"Write, Raphael," he said, and carefully putting the sai in one hand, opened the door. Immediately, Michelangelo burst inside, tripped on the carpet, and scrambled over to Raph on his hands and knees.

"Mikey!" Leo called, "Sensei, I'm sorry, he - "

Mikey had climbed up onto the bed, basically using Raph as a ladder, and now had him in a shell-cracking vice grip. He was no longer crying, but his jaw was set firmly, and he turned his tear-stained face towards sensei reproachfully, as if daring him to order him to leave.

"Hey, little brother," Raph said, patting him on the head.

Mikey turned his head, still scowling, and kissed Raph on the shoulder, before angrily mashing his cheek back against it.

"There. Now somebody kissed you, you big jerk."

Raph snorted, and even sensei chuckled lightly.

"Alright, Michelangelo," sensei said, shaking his head slightly, "Keep your brother company for a few minutes. And then you have school today."

"Raphie, too?"

"Raphael is doing his work in his room today," sensei said firmly, "So you can visit for a little while, and then you need to come to school."

Mikey looked at Raph nervously, clearly not liking the sound of this plan.

"It's okay," Raph said, lamely, "I'm…okay, now."

"Don't do it again," Mikey whispered, firmly.

"I won't," Raph replied, with knee-jerk haste.

"Promise?"

Raph felt like a complete heel, scalded by the heat and concern in Mikey's light blue eyes. He should never look so serious. The moment was made even heavier by sensei's presence, waiting and watching for his answer.

"Promise," Raph muttered. He had no intention of doing it again, but he still felt uneasy making it a promise - after all, he'd told himself the last time was the last time, too. But now that everyone knew about it - it would be twice as bad to do it again. Like he was letting them all down.

"'Kay," Mike said, mashing his cheek into Raph's shoulder and squeezing him again.

Sensei grunted his approval, glided from the room with Raphael's sai. Raph couldn't help but notice he left the door open.

"You should get ready for school," Raph said, "You need to wash your face."

Mikey ignored him and squeezed a little tighter.

Leo and Donnie poked their heads around the doorframe.

"Hey," Raph said, shyly.

"Hey," Leo said, hesitantly stepping just beyond the threshold and stopping. Donnie, however, plunked himself down in front of Raph's leg, examining sensei's handiwork.

"It's not bad," Raph said, hastily, feeling as if Donnie would somehow read through the bandages, "Really. It was just a scratch."

Donnie nodded, apparently satisfied with sensei's handiwork. Raph managed not to roll his eyes - who did he think taught him that stuff anyway? Then again, leave it to Donnie to out-learn everybody.

"So, uh," Leo said, awkwardly, "Sorry. About before."

Raph wrinkled his nose. What did Leo have to apologize for?

"When I said, y'know. That you were…ugly, and mean and stuff."

Raph actually laughed, and Leo's brow lifted in surprise.

"I already forgot," he said, and Leo visibly relaxed, "'Sides, it's true."

"Nuh-uh," Mikey said, "You're not ugly and mean. You're just a jerk."

The others chuckled lightly.

"Yeah…I'm sorry too, guys."

"It's okay."

"No problem."

"You _should_ be. Jerk."

Raph chuckled, and gave Mikey a little squeeze back.

"Boys!" sensei called from the kitchen, "Leave your brother alone, now. Time for school."

"Seeya," Leo said, giving Raph a smile.

Raph smiled back, and nodded. It felt good when he and Leo got along. Of course, it felt satisfying to fight with him, too, but - not as good as getting along.

He and Donnie filed out, Donnie giving him a little wave.

"Michelangelo?"

Mikey looked up at Raph anxiously and squeezed him tighter.

"I'm fine," Raph promised, "Go on. Sensei's calling you."

Mikey finally released him, but surprisingly, reached up for his mask and untied it. Kneeling down, he carefully tied his mask on top of the bandages, and when he was done, gave his handiwork a little peck.

"There. Now it'll get better faster."

"School, Michelangelo."

"Coming!" he called, not waiting for a response from Raph. He bounded down the stairs.

"Sorry, sensei!" he heard, more quietly.

"Where's your mask?" Leo asked.

"Mind your _beeswax_."

Raph looked at the orange bandana on his leg, breathing carefully in and out through his nose, and ghosted his fingers over it. It was still damp with his little brother's tears - tears he'd shed over him…like his love had literally seeped into the fabric and was working its healing magic, like in a fairy tale or something.

He was suddenly overwhelmed, and pushing his journal aside, he lay back down on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The sound of his brothers and his father starting their school day down below washed over him in a soothing cadence.

He would write, but first he needed to rest.


	5. Chapter 5

_I'm really sorry._

 _I let everybody down._

 _I didn't mean to._

 _._

 _It's just some scratches_

 _It's not that big of a deal._

 _We've all had way worse._

 _._

 _But I know it's wrong_

 _I'll never do it again._

 _I'm really sorry._

 _._

 **It's not a big deal?**

 **You are my son, Raphael.**

 **It is a big deal.**

 **.**

 **I know you're sorry.**

 **Apology accepted.**

 **You're not in trouble.**

 **.**

 **But it's not enough.**

 **You need to ask yourself,** _ **"Why?"**_

 **Why did you want this?**

 **.**

 **Where does it come from?**

 **What is it doing for you?**

 **Write about that, please.**

 **.**

 _I don't really know._

 _It's just easier sometimes_

 _Pain that I control._

 _._

" **Pain that you control."**

 **What is the source of the pain**

 **you** _ **cannot**_ **control?**

 **.**

 _This is what I mean_

 _Doing things is easier_

 _than making them words._

 _._

 **Doing what is right**

 **Is almost never the same**

 **As what it easy.**

 **.**

 **I know it's hard to**

 **articulate your feelings**

 **but you need to try.**

 **.**

 _This would be a lot easier if I didn't have to do it in the form of a haiku, sensei._

 **Form, in writing and in ninjutsu, is everything. Think carefully. Choose just the right words. Distill what you want to say. Be precise. It is the same as your katas, Raphael. Be simple, clear, and direct - and do not hold back.**

 **Haiku, please.**

 _Okay, I'll try._

.

Splinter furrowed his brow. The next four or five pages were all ripped out of the journal. After the ripped pages was one short poem.

.

 _I can't say it right._

 _It isn't your fault, sensei._

 _I'm sorry. I tried._

 _._

Splinter scowled, and uncapped his pen.

.

 **That is not enough.**

 **No excuses, Raphael.**

 **Explain. Do your best.**

 **.**

When the notebook was finally returned to him, the missing pages were tucked into it, un-crumpled as much as possible and smoothed out. What was there had been crossed out, erased, and re-written so many times, it was barely legible for all the smudges and creases. He brought the lamp closer, and brought his nose closer to the page, struggling to decipher his son's handwriting.

 _We live where things go_

 _that you want to flush away._

 _I know - "It's safer."_

 _._

 _But what's worse than that_

 _is the voice inside saying_

" _That's all that you are."_

 _._

" _The sky isn't yours._

 _Clean air to breathe isn't yours._

 _You don't belong here."_

 _._

 _Maybe if I was_

 _smart, or kind, or just…better._

 _But I'm not. Besides:_

 _._

 _They deserve it more_

 _but they can't have it either_

 _they're just as hated_

 _._

 _They think we're monsters:_

 _Why bother proving them wrong?_

 _I am what I am._

 _._

 _I'll hate them right back._

 _Everyone's good at something._

 _Guess it's just my "gift."_

 _._

 _Every single thing_

 _feeds this burning inside that_

 _squeezes in my throat._

 _._

 _Mikey's stupid pranks_

 _Leo swanning around like_

 _He can do no wrong_

 _._

 _Even Donnie, who_

 _doesn't deserve any of_

 _my crap, sometimes he_

 _._

 _says something and it_

 _chews under my skin like bugs_

 _an itch I can't scratch_

 _._

 _It's okay at first_

 _i ignore it. but it BUILDS._

 _and there's no relief._

 _._

 _Every single word_

 _chewing on aluminum_

 _biting it all back._

 _._

 _But the worst part is_

 _when I finally lose it_

 _then it turns inside_

 _._

 _When I break something_

 _or say something stupid and_

 _they all look at me_

 _._

 _like, "why are you here?"_

" _Nobody even wants you."_

 _And I'm like, "I know."_

.

" _Don't you think I know?!_

 _Try living inside of it!_

 _I'm Raph ALL THE TIME."_

 _._

 _It's loud and ugly_

 _But then when I do the thing_

 _it gets all - focused_

 _._

 _Everything goes still_

 _Like my body wakes up, and_

 _my thoughts go to sleep._

 _._

 _All the things that hurt_

 _All the anger and the guilt_

 _turn into one thing_

 _._

 _one small point in time,_

 _and i'm the one in control_

 _for once in my life._

 _._

 _it's the only thing_

 _that makes it all go away_

 _and I know it's sick_

 _._

 _and when it's done I_

 _always say it's the last time_

 _but times moves slow here._

 _._

 _the truth really is:_

 _i am a freak. Not because_

 _I'm a mutant though._

 _._

 _Just because of me._

' _Cause there IS no good excuse._

 _Because Raphael._

 _._

 _You'll tell me I'm wrong._

 _But saying that doesn't help_

 _because it feels true._

 _._

 _I'm sorry sensei_

 _you try so hard to help me_

 _you, and my brothers._

 _._

 _Sometimes I think though_

 _that I should just go away_

 _let you be happy._

 _._

 _I dunno. I'm tired._

 _doing it makes me tired._

 _it's kind of nice though._

 _._

 _tired is easy._

 _I always sleep great after._

 _it's nice and quiet._

.

Sensei closed the book with shaking claws. For a long moment he sat there in the dark, staring at the wall across from him. He squeezed his eyes shut.

 _I'm losing him._

All these years, he had told himself that this was for the best - their secrecy, keeping them completely isolated from the outside world. He told himself he was protecting them. But now he saw that he was only making it far, far worse. The longer they stayed isolated down here, the harder and more painful it became for them, and the _less_ prepared they were to face the "real" world and its pitfalls.

And reading his son's words, it was painfully clear: he was going to go to the surface, and soon; whether he had permission or not. And if he didn't - he would be doing it alone, unprepared, and emotionally compromised, having driven himself to a state of distraction.

He shook his head firmly, reaching his decision. This would be the year. He would dramatically step up their training. Ensure they had every chance to keep one another safe. And this would be the year they would face the _tengu._

This would be the year they finally got their wish and went to the surface.

It _had_ to be.

As dangerous as it was up there…as much pain and sorrow was waiting for them; it was just as dangerous to deny them - just as painful.

Moved by sudden anxiety, he swung his feet out of bed and crept silently out into the lair. They had all gone to bed ages ago and were surely fast asleep by now. He reached Raphael's door, and carefully, silently, opened the door.

True to his word, Raphael was sleeping like a stone, one hand on his plastron, a thin line of drool seeping onto his pillow, brow furrowed into a scowl even in sleep. Splinter stood and watched him sleep for a moment, his eyes smarting with unshed tears. His poor, poor boy. One so young should not have to suffer so.

He crept closer to the bed, and pressed gently but firmly on Raphael's shell. He closed his mouth, made a low mumbling noise, and finally rolled onto his side. Carefully sitting in bed behind him, Splinter gently stroked his bald head until the furrows in Raphael's brow relaxed and smoothed away. He remembered the days when they all slept together on one big bed, when his arm could easily cover all four of them as they slept, and he couldn't believe now they had ever been so small. And yet, at the same time, he _still_ seemed small, even now.

Being very careful not to disturb him, Splinter leaned over and placed a kiss on Raphael's smooth, green scalp as he slept.


End file.
